


clouds nine, ten, eleven and others.

by AnxiousCupcake



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Confessions, Dorks in Love, Fluff, Light Angst, Midnight Kisses, Misunderstandings, New Year's Eve date, Oblivious Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Post-Reveal Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Pre-Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, but is NOT really, but we love him, dense as a brick that boy, on the whole i'd say its a kind of FUN AF fic, so does she, soft and awkward dorks in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28342311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiousCupcake/pseuds/AnxiousCupcake
Summary: Adrien and Marinette are on a date, but Adrien doesn't realize it. He's getting increasingly upset that "Marinette's boyfriend" hasn't shown up yet, not knowing that it's him. Feelings are felt and confessions are made as they both remain oblivious of what their outing really means to the other.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 23
Kudos: 255
Collections: Miraculous Writer's Guild December Event





	clouds nine, ten, eleven and others.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GalahadWilder](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalahadWilder/gifts).



> happy holidays to all of you guys!!
> 
> and thanks a TON to Mia for being the patient beta reader that i didn't know i needed. this would have been an unnecessary angst fest without you <3

“Good morning, Marinette,” Adrien smiled, beaming at her, pleasantly surprised to find she was already in class. “Sleep well?”

“I tried to but a black cat kept me up all night.”

He quirked a brow. “Shame. I’m sure he enjoyed doing it.”

“I’m sure he did,” she said with amusement. “Looked very much like the cat that got the cream this morning.”

“Pretty sure he would love to,” he smirked, leaning into her space. “All night, if he could.”

He was very pleased with himself when she turned a fiery red and looked away shyly. Alya was looking at them both with raised eyebrows. “What the fuck?!”

“Uh…”

“Cat got your tongue, huh?” he asked smugly as she floundered for an explanation. 

She turned to glare at him over her shoulder. “He _wishes_.”

“He sure does,” he purred and then sat down in his seat at last after winking at her.

“M, was… That some sort of furry speak, girl?” asked Alya in a tone she definitely thought was low, but it _definitely_ wasn’t, not for his miraculously enhanced hearing. 

“It’s an inside joke,” Marinette muttered, but he could hear the smile in her voice. 

“ _Fine_ , be that way.” 

He heard her giggle and felt his heart melt. 

Adrien had been, for about a week now, on cloud nine. In fact, he was on cloud ten, eleven, twelve; whichever the highest cloud level of pure happiness was, because he _knew_ who his lady was. Not just in the corny ‘I may not know your name or know what you look like, but I know your heart’ way, but he _actually_ really _knew_ her. 

He knew her name, he knew where she lived, what her parents did. He knew she was tardy and tended to oversleep, that she loved sewing clothes (she found black tie clothes challenging which only made her love making them all the more), baking ( _especially_ macarons), was a little bit hot-headed and tended to catastrophize while simultaneously being clumsy. 

His lady was the cute girl he had a “little” crush even before he knew she was his lady (personally, he thought that earned him some brownie points), and who, much to his extreme satisfaction, couldn’t stop blushing around him to save her life. It made him hopeful enough to confidently confess his feelings for her again, because maybe something had changed now. It had been so long anyway. 

Oh he could just _purr_ with happiness.

Absolutely _nothing_ could bring him down... 

“So, have you asked your _boyfriend_ to the Christmas market for New Year’s yet?” came Alya’s hushed voice, teasing and full of mirth, and _even_ lower than before, but not low _enough._

The question was followed by a dull thud, probably Marinette thumping her head against her desk. Her voice was so soft he almost missed it. “He is not- _Yet_ \- We- _Ugh,_ _no_! You know how I always get!” 

… Well, except _that_. 

Marinette had a _boyfriend_!? Since when, and why had no one told Adrien about it? The happiness had drained out of him. How dare Plagg convince him that Marinette liked him back? How dare _he_ be convinced when she explicitly _told_ him there was someone else! 

Luka, probably. Who else could it be, honestly. He’d seen them out together, seen the way she laughed around him and the adoring way he gazed at her. _Definitely,_ Luka.

“Girl today’s the last day of school!” scolded Alya. “And you know how busy he keeps during the season! You’ll need to ask him before he gets swept away in the all of seasonal frenzy!”

He heard Marinette groan. “I _can’t_. He’s so _busy_ and I don’t want to cause trouble! Besides, I don’t know, Al, I just don’t want to be pushy.”

“Pushy? Pshh!” scoffed Alya. “What are you so afraid of? You’ve seen how the boy looks at you with literal heart eyes! He will _not_ say no!” 

Adrien nodded to himself glumly. Anyone who didn’t look at Marinette with heart eyes was but a fool. And Luka certainly was not one. 

Punk rock, guitar-wielding Luka with black-painted nails and teal-tipped hair. 

Luka _‘Possibly son of Jagged Stone’_ Couffaine, with his cryptic persona and mysterious ways of talking in poetic riddles and wooing the ladies. _His_ lady. 

Adrien sighed.

“It’s just scary, Al,” he heard Marinette’s small voice. “He means so much to me, what if I fuck it up?”

“Nah, you won’t,” Alya disagreed. So did Adrien. “He’s going to love you even if you trip over air, fall flat on your face, break your nose and chipped a tooth. He’d probably catch you and say ‘Looks like you fell for me’ or some cheesy shit like that.”

Adrien agreed. He knew _he_ would say exactly that. 

Marinette snorted in response, fondness seeping into her voice as she said with a sigh, “Yeah, he would.”

She sounded so smitten. Luka was one lucky bugger. 

“You’re right, I’ll ask by the end of today.”

_End of today._

Great. 

Adrien wondered if he’d end up being witness to that moment. So, just to make sure he didn’t, he fled from her every opportunity he got.

At the end of the day Adrien was waiting for the Gorilla to pick him up, tired from all the wary running. He was so upset, and couldn’t stand to confront Marinette about it, because what was with all that flirting if she had a boyfriend? Did her boyfriend know? And why didn’t she _tell him_? 

To be fair, she had said there was “someone else” — _multiple_ times, in fact — when he used to profess his love almost on a daily basis to Ladybug before they revealed themselves. Maybe she was just keeping up their “fun dynamic”. Maybe that’s what all this flirting — no, teasing — was. A “fun dynamic” between two _very good_ friends. 

He should've known better than to assume otherwise anyway, Marinette had made it abundantly clear, in very certain terms, that she had no feelings for him. She'd told Chat the same, as well as Adrien. She'd told him as Marinette that there was some other boy. So why should the reveal suddenly change anything? There was no reason for the 'Other Boy" to suddenly not be in the picture. He supposed that he had just gotten too carried away in his whims of romance.

“Adrien!”

He stilled and turned around to see Marinette running towards him from the inside. 

_Oh god._

Would she now tell him about how happy and excited she was that Luka had said ‘yes’? 

**_Oh god._ **

“I- I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” she said, finally coming to a halt next to him as she tried to catch her breath, hands on her knees.

Curious, he tilted his head at her. “Y-Yes, m’lady?”

She flushed pink. It didn’t produce the same effect on him as it had that morning. She was probably just embarrassed. 

“Will you, um, go to the Christmas Market with me for New Year’s Eve?” 

The words were out in one breath, and she was fidgeting nervously with her hands, looking everywhere but at him.

_What?_

He said as much. “What?”

She bit her lip nervously, tucking her hair behind her ear as she met his eyes. 

“Uh. Christmas Market. With me. On New Year’s Eve?”

“Me?”

She deflated a little bit. “Yes?”

“ _Really_?”

Her face went ashen as she stepped back, shaking her head rigorously. “Forget it! This was a terrible idea, I _knew_ it. We’re _friends_! And- I… Well, I thought… I don’t know what I thought!!! I _didn’t_ think!” she wailed. “I’m sorry, _chaton_. I’m just nervous and I don’t know what I was thinking, _ugh_ , we’re _best friends_ and _partners_ and _god_ this was stupid of me and-”

_Oh._

He got it now.

“I’ll go,” he said determinedly, nodding at her. 

If she wanted her _best friend_ and _partner_ for support on her date with Luka, he would go. It would be _fine_. He’d just… sneak away if things went well for the other two. In fact, he’d _make_ sure things went well. 

He _would_ do that for his lady.

_(“How very noble and brave of you,” Plagg had told him later that evening, his whiskers twitching as he watched his chosen wallow in misery. Adrien agreed whole-heartedly, albeit with a miserable whimper.)_

“Father would be a tough nut to crack, what with the Festive Collection coming out and the shoot, but I’ll convince Nathalie. _Somehow_.”

Marinette frowned. “Y-You don’t have to go through such lengths for me, Adrien. We’ll find some other time, or-”

He shook his head vehemently, because as much as he’d like to postpone this _forever_ , it probably best to rip off the bandaid and all that. “No, I _want_ to, I swear.”

“Really?” she asked meekly. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’d love to,” he assured. _No_ he would _not._ He heard his car pull up. “Anything to support you, m’lady.”

He missed the perplexed look she shot him as he hurried into his car.

_(The texts he received from Nino congratulating him, ending with a “Finally!”, made more sense in retrospect, at the end of New Year’s Eve. As did Alya’s barely veiled threat, which had been perplexing in that moment at best, and disheartening at worst. Plagg’s whiskers had twitched again as he had bemoaned having to correct his friends’ misunderstanding.)_

A light snow was falling when Adrien met Marinette at the Christmas Market splayed out in front of the Eiffel Tower. 

It had taken a whole lot of convincing and pulling extra hours, but he’d made it. He hadn’t seen her since the small Christmas dinner her family had hosted for them and Tom’s teasing about the “lovebirds” had been awkward enough — even a little painful — but Marinette shaking her head fondly at her father was really perplexing to him. It was odd, he thought, that her parents didn’t know she had a boyfriend (that was _not_ him). 

When he found her among the crowd of the Christmas Market he walked up to her and appeared in her line of sight. She beamed at him, and he felt his heart melt at the sight of her. She was wearing her hair down, currently cascading unevenly down her shoulders, some of it tucked into the jetblack scarf with green tassels that was wrapped around her neck. A spring green peacoat with black stockings and black gloves, topped with a black beanie with cat ears, she looked ready to kill. 

_Him_ , specifically.

“Hi,” she said shyly and _oh god._

As he got closer, he noted that she was also carrying what looked like a small picnic basket. Catching the line of his gaze, she giggled. “Maman and Papa packed us some dinner and snacks. Wanted us to have a whole, _proper_ meal as we welcome the New Year.”

Then, she was leaning up on her toes to kiss either of his cheeks in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it,” she whispered in his ear.

“Of course,” he said, and while she drew back, unfortunately for his heart, she didn’t put much space between them. “Would never miss an opportunity to see you, m’lady,” he said earnestly, looking down at her.

Her eyes widened and she blushed deeply, a small groan escaping her as she let her forehead fall against his chest. He startled at that, but with only a little hesitation, wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t want to be the first to break away, but to his utter delight, she didn’t break away either. They held on for a long enough time that Adrien worried what Luka would think if he saw them. 

“So…” he cleared his throat. “Is, um… Luka coming, er, when??”

_Couldn’t even craft a sentence right. Ugh._

Marinette blinked up at him. “Luka?”

“Yeah, I thought -”

“Why would Luka come, Adrien?” she asked, giving him a funny look.

Adrien blanched. It _wasn’t_ Luka!? Then _who_? There was someone in her life he didn’t even know about? Why hadn’t she told him?!

“I… Never mind, I, uh, thought I saw him there or something,” he said dismissively. “Just a guy with blue hair.”

Well, _maybe_ she did tell him about him and it slipped his mind. Who in the hell was this “someone else” anyway? It was annoying him in earnest now. 

“O _o_ kay,” she said a little unsurely, before her eyes flickered around. “So, um we’ve got a couple of hours till midnight, do you want to look around? We could have our dinner in about an hour or so?”

He blinked at her wide-eyed. “Till midnight?”

“I-I mean, yes? If you want to? Alya and Nino said they’d meet us around then as well, probably a little after because… Well,” she blushed and shrugged. _Well, what_!? _Oh, no_. “And my parents want me home by half-past one though.” Then, her brows furrowed with worry. “I… Did you… Not want to…?”

“It’s just… I’m surprised you want to wait for the New Year with _me_ , is all,” he mumbled. 

Marinette smiled bashfully. “I… I don’t know if you know, _chaton_ , but it’s tradition to wait out the New Year’s with… With their loved ones.”

A puff of warm air curled into the wintry night as he exhaled, eyes wide. While he was touched that he was as important as her boyfriend apparently, he also couldn’t help but feel a sting; would he have to watch them kiss? He didn’t think he would be able to handle it. He’d have to duck out on the pretext of using the restroom or something; as well-intentioned as his lady was, he doubted she’d notice if she was busy… well, kissing. 

This was going to be a _much_ longer night than he’d thought.

Somehow through the night, his hand had found his way into hers, and he’d pried the basket out of her hands so he was carrying it. He was hyper-aware of her hand in his, but chose not to comment on it, because he didn’t want to embarrass her. Besides, this felt… Nice. Maybe he could indulge in just a _little_ bit of fantasizing before New Year struck and he could resolve to start to move on from the first of January, right? Right.

And so, he didn’t comment on it when she kissed him on the cheek when he brought the both some cinnamon apple pie. He didn’t comment on the way she blushed when he caught her from tripping over some slick ice; embarrassment, he told himself. He didn’t comment on the fact that he had caught sight of the silver necklace — he’d gifted it to her for Christmas with a pawprint for the locket — on her neck visible through the folds of her now sloppily wrapped scarf. 

He did not comment on when Marinette bashfully bought him a red rose, insisting that a neon green bow be tied to it, and he told himself not everyone was possibly as well-versed in the flower language as he was. Well, or at least didn’t care about the symbolism as much as he did. She probably thought the red paired with the neon green was cute because those were their colours, artistic eye, and all that.

She stepped closer to him and carefully set the rose in his breast pocket, just so. The red flower, he was sure, looked beautiful against his white coat, with the green bow sitting right under it, resting on the lip of the pocket. 

“It looks lovely on you,” she breathed, gently running her hands over his chest in an attempt to straighten the non-existent wrinkles on his coat. 

His heart was racing. He was sure she could feel it, there was no way she couldn’t. She bit her lower lip as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes and he thought she would be the death of him, not for the first time that night.

He was jealous of the man who got to kiss her. A man who was _still_ yet to show. What an absolute buffoon.

When they settled down for dinner at a picnic table by the tree, Adrien swooned at the sight of the pink and red roses she pulled out of the picnic basket, her face bashful. The idiot was really missing out on his lady’s thoughtfulness and he couldn’t help but feel a little smug that _he_ had the honour of being on the receiving end of it all; even if it was by virtue of _that jerk_ being tardy. 

Once the food was laid out, Adrien noted with glee that a lot of the things were something he loved. Bless the Dupain-Chengs for being mindful of his tastes, he thought warmly. 

The kwamis flew out of their hiding spot in Marinette’s purse and sat hidden in the shadow of the picnic basket. Plagg flew up to nuzzle Marinette’s cheek with a purr — much to Adrien’s envy _and_ indignance because Plagg had the _audacity_ to wink at him — before diving into the assortment of camembert related cheese dishes. 

Tikki beamed a grin at Adrien, before exchanging a look with Marinette that he didn’t understand but made Marinette blush. Then, the kwami dove into the vanilla cake.

“I, uh, added crumbled chocolate chips cookies to the vanilla ganache,” giggled Marinette, eyeing her enthusiastic kwami fondly. 

“You’re so thoughtful, m’lady,” Adrien sighed happily, popping the smoked salmon canapes in his mouth. 

“I try,” she said with a soft smile, her elbow now on the table, chin propped up by her hand. “You know, I’m so glad we revealed our identities,” she said.

He beamed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s so much easier now, knowing that you’re _right_ there, you know? And well,” she hesitated before continuing, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. “I… Worry less about you now. I know how lonely you used to get and now… I can make sure you never do.”

Adrien’s throat felt tight. “I’m happier than you’ll ever know now that I know where to find you.”

She smiled at him, and without breaking eye contact, lifted his hand to her lips, pressing them against his knuckles. His breath hitched and though he was wearing mittens, he could feel the heat of her lips through them and _oh boy, please don’t pass out._ Her eyes were sparkling with mirth. 

“You know what’s funny?” Marinette asked.

“Wh-What?”

She looked nervous, but her eyes were gleaming and she was biting her lower lip bashfully. “Remember the other boy I mentioned?” 

_Ah, yes. ‘The Other Boy’. The bane of his very existence. The_ **_very tardy_ ** _bane of his existence._

“Y-Yeah.”

“It was, um, you,” she admitted, voice hushed. 

Adrien let out a strangled gasp. _What_. _WhatWhatWhatWhat._

She laughed sheepishly. “Ironic, isn’t it? The whole damn thing’s been ironic.”  
  
He only made more unintelligible noises. He was simply, _simply_ unable to process. _He_ was the other boy!? What the f-

“I was torn between the two boys,” she continued, almost oblivious to his _suffering_. “And, well the reveal… It made my world spin for a second, but suddenly the choice was easier than I ever imagined it could be.”

_Oh._

_That made sense._

He felt bitterness seep into him. Wasn’t that just great? He’d had his chance and _blown_ it the second of the reveal, because whoever this _OTHER guy_ was — her _boyfriend_ now, apparently — was just that much better than both his personas _combined._ Figures. 

It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t return his feelings. But it also wasn’t like her to be this _cruel,_ when she knew how he felt. Or did she really forget about that? She did seem to laugh and get embarrassed at his declarations, so maybe she didn’t think any of those were _real_ anyway. He remembered how Marinette used to be firm on her belief in class that Chat Noir’s declarations were too over the top to be real, especially when there was speculation of any romantic relations between them.

Yeah, his lady was definitely not that cruel. He supposed that if she knew, she wouldn’t even have invited him to the outing in the first place. She was just that _kind,_ wanting to include him at every chance she got, even if it was just as friends. 

He sighed, and gave her a pained smile. “I’m just happy that you’re happy, m’lady.”

She smiled warmly at him. “Very much, kitty.”

He held it together, trying his best not to taint the air with a lingering sadness. And it was all relatively fine until they were finished ice-skating. 

(The jerk was still not here, but Marinette still seemed to not care and though he was getting ready to deck the guy, who cared as long as she was beaming at him the way that she was? Well, _he_ cared. It wasn’t very good for his heart, but he wasn’t complaining.)

And boy, wasn’t that a challenge by itself? Holding her so close but having it mean nothing, watching the others admire their grace but having it mean nothing. Having her eyes on him all the time, but having it mean nothing.

He was thankful and also rueful over the loss of her closeness when they were done.

Marinette handed her phone over to a passerby to take a photo of the two of them under a tree strung up with fairylights. The photo was clicked and the woman squealed at something over their heads. 

“Mistletoe! Kiss for the camera you guys!” she gushed.

Marinette had turned beet red and Adrien felt his heart sink to his chest. “Uh…”

He didn’t notice Marinette deflate a little, disappointment on her face as she gave the woman a watery smile and a shrug before reaching over to take the phone back. 

After that, he put a purposeful distance between them, because even if it only had been for a little over an hour, he _had_ let himself indulge. And that wasn’t fair to her. His gaze flickered over to see that she had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes a little distant; she’d been quieter since that moment with the photo at the rink. 

He wondered if he should apologize. It had probably made her uncomfortable given that she already had a boyfriend, and the lady’s enthusiasm dredged up memories of him professing his undying love for her (none of it lies, of course) and now she probably felt uncomfortable and guilty. 

He sighed internally.

But, if he was being fair, if anyone should’ve apologized, it should have been her stupid no-show boyfriend. Where the hell was he, anyway? 

He would _never_ have treated this amazing girl this way. 

Although, he supposed that wasn’t his place to say, and deciding on being the supportive best friend that he was here as, he nudged her lightly. “Hey. Wanna grab some hot chocolate?”

She gave him a small smile. “Always.”

They made their way to the stall with hot chocolate, and he got himself a salted caramel one after paying for Marinette’s amaretto hot chocolate. They walked to the picnic benches nearby and sat down, cupping the steaming hot mugs in both hands as they took slow sips. 

“This is great.”

“It sure is.”

The tight smile on Marinette’s face said otherwise though, and the conversation lulled. She looked weary and unsure suddenly, and he noted that she had a finger stuck in her purse. He realised she was drawing comfort from her kwami, and felt his heart ache at the lost look in her eyes.

God, he’d do anything to make her smile right now. Adrien decided that if that jerk did show up tonight, he would get a nice talking off to. But if Marinette’s mood dropped further, a punch was definitely _not_ off the table. His lady deserved _way_ better than an asshole who would break commitments and be tardy on New Year’s Eve of all days. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Marinette’s gentle sigh. “It’s nearly midnight. We should get going if we wanna catch the fireworks.”

He peered into his empty hot chocolate mug, and stood up with a nod. 

They walked towards where Marinette had said would be a good spot on the promenade, and he could feel her elbow grazing his. She was lost in thought, brows furrowed, eyes on the ground, her entire form deflated, none of that excited, flushed glow about her from when he’d first met her that evening.

A punch, Adrien decided, would be too generous of a punishment. Adrien wondered if Alya would join in on a murderous plot. She would definitely make a good addition, he thought absently. Of all the people he knew, he had the feeling Alya would be best to seek help from if he wanted to bury a body. She just had the sharp, manic vibe to her sometimes. 

They hopped onto the promenade, and sat facing the Eiffel tower, the now empty picnic basket between them. Both were quiet for sometime, gazing out at the dark sky behind the Eiffel Tower which was soon to be lit up with fireworks. From his peripheral vision, Adrien could see her hands fidgeting in her lap and he resisted the urge to reach out.

What if her boyfriend showed up? And caused a scene? Adrien found himself, once again, bitterly judging the guy. Late, and hadn’t even texted about it, Adrien thought with disdain, because he was sure Marinette hadn’t looked at her phone _once_ through the night. The guy was surely also an asshole who caused a scene over stupid shit too. It was irrational reasoning, of course, but he supposed it was at least stemming from reasonable anger. 

Adrien sighed to himself. It would do no good to build hypotheticals anyway. In spite of that, he was ready to punch the guy. 

He heard a quiet sniffle next to him, and snapped out of it. Whipping around to look at Marinette. Her eyes were a little watery and she was clearly trying to keep her tears at bay as she whipped her phone out, lower lip trembling, eyes hard. He couldn’t stand it when she cried. 

That’s it. 

No punching. 

No strategic murdering. 

_Only_ cataclysm. Instant disintegration and _complete_ erasure from existence in its _entirety_ was what this asshole deserved. 

“I’m going to text Nino and Alya,” she said quietly, not quite having caught on that he had seen her tears. “There’s no point in having them arrive a little later now, is there.”

He looked at her with a frown. “Whatever you want, m’lady.”

“Whatever _I_ want, _ha_!” she snorted, as she whipped out her phone. Adrien caught sight of Tikki’s wide blue eyes as she peered at him through her purse’s opening in confusion and concern. And frankly, he thought, Plagg had no business looking that amused; this was anything but.

“You deserve so much better,” he muttered under his breath with a grimace. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled.

“Adrien, did I do something wrong?” she asked at last, her voice fragile and she was looking at him so woefully that he hurriedly removed the basket from between them, setting it carefully on the floor so he could scoot closer. He swung one leg over the bench, so he had one on each side of it as he turned his full body towards her. Tardy-Boyfriend be damned, he took her hand in his and looked at her imploringly. 

“What, no _never_. This is not on you, Bugaboo. I promise. You’re… The best honestly,” he said. He brought her hand up to press his lips against her knuckles and then turned it over to kiss the inside of her palm. “You… M’lady, you deserve the _world_ ,” he said sincerely, and to his surprise, her face morphed into a scowl. 

“I’m clearly not _that_ amazing,” he heard her irritated mutter. 

No, now that won’t do. Man, where the hell did she find a guy so shitty? Who the hell did he even think he was? 

“Would I lie to you, _ma coccinelle_?”

She whipped around to glare at him. “I don’t know, Adrien, _would you_?”

Adrien sputtered. “I… Hnnnn….” 

“I don’t _get_ it!” she huffed. “Why would you agree to be here if you clearly didn’t want to be. You could’ve just said no!”

“That’s not it!” cried Adrien indignantly. “I swear, I’m here because I _want_ to be.” He paused. “Well, _kind of_.” He meant that to be muttered _under his breath._

Much to his panic, the tip of her nose was turning red rapidly and her eyes were misting over. 

“Oh, m’lady, _no_ ,” he said, eyebrows scrunching as he tried to gather her in his arms. “Don’t cry, _please._ I won’t be able to take it,” he said, fussing over her.

“I’m not _crying_ because I’m _sad_! It’s because- because I’m so _mad_ at you! Why would you do this to me!” she wailed, stubbornly keeping a distance between them. “If this is your idea of being gentle, courteous and-”

“ _Me_? What did _I_ do!” His temper flared. “I was just trying to be a good friend!”

“A good friend.” She repeated, lips pursed.

“ _Yes_.” He said, with _emphasis,_ because she _needed_ to understand. He squeezed her hand once with what he hoped was reassurance. “You are _amazing_ , Marinette. And you mean so much to me. You’re my best friend, well, maybe _tied_ with Nino, but _still._ You’re so important to me, my partner in superheroics and all that, you know?”

“Tied with _Nino_?” she snapped. “So, that’s what this whole evening has been about? Celebrating our _friendship_?”

_Er._

“Yes?”

Her face was turning red, but not the blush-y way he had come to love. Her right eye was twitching, very reminiscent to the time Lila had said something stupid. What… What had he said? This… Couldn’t be good. 

Clearing his throat, he continued. “Well, yeah. We’re best friends aren’t we? And you have to understand that I’d do nothing to jeopardise what we have.”

“I can’t believe this!” Marinette declared, pulling away from him and glaring at the distance. “Looks like I’m the one that got carried away, _as usual._ Apparently, I’m more blind than Alya claims _you_ to be!” she snorted.

“ _Hey!_ ”

“What, it’s true!” she snapped. “Been _three_ years and you remained clueless, and _I_ thought it was cute! _Aw, Alya, I think it’s so endearing_!” she ended in a mocking, high-pitched voice..

He couldn’t help himself; the tips of his ears turned red with embarrassment and indignation. And at the thought she’d found him _cute_ and _endearing._

“I am such an idiot!” she said, scowling at her lap.

“What, no! You’re not-”

“Of course, I am!” she snapped, turning to his face, glare intact. “I planned an evening that I thought would be the start of _something_ but _no_! Red roses, inspired by all your talk about love languages. Dinner! A-And _ice skating_! They were all booked out but I begged for just _two_ because I wanted a special first date and-”

He could see her spiralling. And he had to stop her from her taking the blame because frankly, ultimately-

“If anything, _he’s_ the idiot!” He cut her off obstinately, looking at her challengingly.

She blinked. “What?”

Crossing his arms, Adrien glared into the distance. “Look, I know it’s not my place to say…” he started slowly, before gathering his wits with determination. He was here as a _best friend_ , right? So part of the best friend duty was to save their best friend from themselves. “But you’re my _best friend_! And-”

“I _get_ it!” she snapped. “I get it, okay? Will you _stop_ saying that like- _Ugh,_ is this your way of gently-”

“Mari, _please_ let me continue!” he pleaded. ”You might not like this but you _need_ to hear this. Partner to partner,” he said firmly.

Marinette deflated. “Fine. It’s nothing I haven’t already heard before then,” she grumbled. 

Apparently Alya had already tried, he thought, and had not gotten through to her clearly. It gave him hope for the strategic plan of murder he was considering seeking Alya’s help for.

“M’lady,” he said sombrely. “You deserve better.”

Marinette scowled. “What, is this-”

“Look, I know it’s hard to hear, but your boyfriend is a _dick_ ,” he said hotly, glaring at a point over her shoulder, not yet ready to face her ire. “He was supposed to be here and he isn’t, and it’s been _hours._ It’s practically midnight! He hasn’t even had the decency to _call_ you and don’t you deny it!”

His gaze flickered back to her. Surprisingly, there was no anger in her eyes, just confusion, as she kept blinking at him owlishly, as if trying to process everything he was saying. At least she was listening. 

“I don’t know who he is, but I hate what this is doing to you. You deserve someone loving and caring, someone who values you _and_ your time,” he said passionately. “Someone who doesn’t take you for granted. Look at how much thought you put into the entire evening, and your boyfriend had the audacity to not even show!”

She was looking at him curiously now, head tilted. “Boyfriend?” she asked without any of the previous anger in her voice. 

Somewhere, in the distance, the countdown to midnight had begun.

Adrien stilled. “Oh. Was… Was I not supposed to know?” he asked, blinking. “I’m sorry! I… Well, I overheard Alya talking to you and I’m sorry I shouldn’t have eavesdropped. I didn’t realise, it was supposed to be a secret. _Oh. Oh my gosh_ , was this evening about you introducing me to him? Ah, shit. Wait, no, actually you know what? Maybe it was for the best. If he showed up now, I’d straight up _deck_ him.”

Understanding seemed to cross her face. “Adrien-”

“I _know_ that’s rude of me, bug. But I swear you deserve better. Someone who is _there_ for you. Someone who _isn’t_ a no-show.”

As he watched, she mirrored him, legs on either side of the bench so they were now facing each other. She scooted closer, her knees now touching his, and he hoped she wouldn’t make anything of his rapidly reddening face.

She leaned into his space, eyes narrowed as she scrutinised him. He hoped she understood where he was coming from, and he did his best not to look away from her nervously. He had to stand his ground, dammit. Her face soon broke into a look of mirth though, and he didn’t like that. What was he supposed to make of _that_ look!? Was she not taking him seriously? Was she going to-

“Someone like you?” she asked. 

_Uh._

He spluttered. Cue his second round of making unintelligible noises for the day. He continued doing so as she took his hands in her, lifting one up to her face to kiss the inside of his palm, not once breaking eye contact with him. 

He fell silent, staring at her to see that her face was filled with warmth and she was looking at him with such fondness that he thought he could pass out. The smile never left her face, but a spark of mischief did cross her face after a split second of contemplation as she crawled into his lap, her knees on either side of his hips as she towered over him.

“M-M’lady!” His voice came out strangled — because _what the hell was going on_ — as he stared up at her, hands automatically going around her waist.

“You’re so silly, _mon minou_ ,” she whispered, before her hands gripped his shoulders firmly and she leaned down to kiss him, straight on the lips.

He let out a startled squeak, and she drew back for exactly half a second to smile affectionately at him before going in to kiss him again. He responded this time, deciding to not question this turn of events until later, because _what was going on?_ Not that he was complaining, but _what was going on?!_

His grip around her tightened and she leaned into him even more, leaving no room between them. One of his hands crawled up her back and found its way into her hair, and he was grateful that she left it loose today. Her beanie fell off her head as he mussed up her tresses, and she moaned into his mouth in response, allowing him to slip his tongue inside. 

It was hot and wet, and he had exactly zero complaints as her teeth grazed his lower lip, tugging gently before she licked it. 

He vaguely remembered something about the highest cloud of happiness from about a week ago. That was nothing on this. This was higher than that. He was flying. And there were fireworks, because of course there were. Both metaphorical and literal.

They parted for air, chests heaving, and he could feel her heart racing against his chest. His was no better as he gazed up at her, the fireworks exploding overhead creating a golden halo behind her. 

“Happy New Year, my kitty cat.”

“Happy New Year to you too, m’lady,” he sighed. Or did he _swoon_? Probably the latter, if her amused giggle was anything to go by.

He shifted uncomfortably under her very much comfortably warm gaze, as she rested an elbow on his shoulder, palm against her cheek as she looked down at him. One hand was still in his hair, caressing, and if she didn’t remove it immediately he _would_ combust on the spot.

“Um, m’lady…”

“Hm?”

“I- I don’t think that um, y-your boyfriend would be too happy with you going around and kissing other guys on New Year’s Eve,” he mumbled unsurely. 

“Adrien,” she sighed, though there wasn’t an ounce of irritation in it. Only… amusement.

He pouted, and bit his lip, still sensitive from their kiss as he turned to look at her. He was starting to think he was _really_ missing something. 

“I… Alya said…”

Marinette bit her lip, trying not to laugh. “Yeah. _Alya_.”

“Oh,” he nodded, as if that explained everything. It maybe even did, just a little bit. But she was still watching him, _prompting_ him. “Alya… Was… Teasing you.”

“Yeah, she was,” she agreed. 

Her glove-clad fingers had found their way to the nape of his neck, playing with the blonde curls there as she watched him.

“Y-You said you used to have a crush on _me_ …” He started slowly. 

“Mhmm.”

“A-And after we revealed ourselves… You didn’t have to choose because….”

_It made my world spin for a second, but suddenly the choice was easier than I ever imagined it could be._

“There is no asshole boyfriend, is there?” he asked, looking up at her sheepishly as realization dawned on him. “I’m the _other_ boy, it was- It was me all along, wasn’t it?”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” she laughed, leaning down to plant a chaste kiss on his lips. “Got it one, smarty-pants.”

Adrien groaned, resting his forehead against her collarbone, while she laughed quietly, running her fingers through his hair. “I can’t _believe_ I spent our _first date_ feeling jealous of a guy for not “showing up” when the guy was _me_.”

“At least we have a great first date story,” she giggled.

“I want, no, _demand_ a re-do,” he mumbled.

He felt her kiss the top of his head. Was it possible to melt further than his pre-melted state?

“Did it ever strike you that if I were on an _actual_ date with this boyfriend you were so convinced I had, I may not have asked you to tag along?” she asked in amusement.

Adrien grinned sheepishly. “I, um, may have thought you’re inviting me for moral support.”

“Moral support,” she repeated. “And you _came_ anyway? Even though you thought you’d have to watch…” She trailed away with a sigh, her eyes soft. “You’re amazing. And so selfless. What did I do to deserve you?”

“Bad karma,” he said solemnly, eyes dancing with mirth as his hands traced patterns on her lower back.

Marinette snorted. “Well, you _are_ dense as a brick.”

“ _Hey_!”

“I can’t believe it took you _this long_ to figure it out,” she chuckled. “You’d think you’d have figured it out when the ice skating rink had reservations for _two_ people _or_ when you saw I brought food for the _kwamis_ and cutlery for _two_. If nothing else, my outfit should’ve been a dead giveaway, _chaton_. I could _not_ have been more obvious.”

He pouted. “Well, _paw_ don me for being busy wallowing in self-pity to be able to think rationally.”

“You’re _paw_ doned.” She kissed the tip of his nose. “Only because I love you.”

“You love me,” he repeated. 

“Well,” she said, caressing the red rose in his pocket. “Thought it was kind of obvious by now.”

“I like hearing it anyway,” he said bashfully, kissing the corner of her lips. 

“Oh,” she said, her face on fire. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he said, voice quiet, as he swept some hair out of her face.

This time, he craned his neck to reach her lips, pecking them once, twice, three times, before pressing harder for a deeper kiss. Her legs locked around his back and she leaned into him, fingers tugging into his hair, which he was quickly figuring out was something he liked very much. He had just decided to nibble on her lip for a bit when they were rudely interrupted. 

“There you two are!” Alya’s voice startled them both into breaking apart, as they found her silhouette approaching them. _Rapidly._ A woman on a mission. “Adrien Agreste, what is this I’m hearing about this date not going well and- oh. _Well._ ”

Alya was now towering over them both, arms crossed, glaring at Adrien, followed closely by Nino who just looked wary. Though Adrien thought he could see a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. 

“What’s this then?” demanded Alya. “Were you guys making out or did I hallucinate that?”

“We were making out,” Adrien said immediately.

“I see,” she noted. “If that is the case, firstly, I’m sorry for interrupting with the intent of chewing your head off, Sunshine. You’ll be allowed to proceed in a bit.” Then she turned to Marinette. “What was that about asking us to come sooner and the date going terribly?”

Marinette smirked, and turned to Adrien, whose face flamed in embarrassment. “It’s a long story, Al.”

“I’ve got the time,” said Alya, looking suspiciously between the two.

“It was all your fault, actually, Al…”

“Mari, _nooo_!” 

**Author's Note:**

> send asks or questions about this fic, or anything mlb and i'll be happy to discuss! :D - [activechataclysme.](https://activechataclysme.tumblr.com/)


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